


Burn your kingdom down

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [113]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 07:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3480008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(1/4 Sith War) A mysterious new threat to the galaxy, reveals the truth of Darth Vader’s identity, turning the galaxy against the Skywalkers and the New Jedi Order (not EU compliant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn your kingdom down

The co-pilot’s seat creaks familiarly as Luke settles in, readying for landing. Leia steers the Falcon down into the atmosphere.

She’s quiet, but thinking on the call from home. More years together than apart now, Luke can read her thoughts almost as his own, though it is sometimes more like skimming over the words in a holobook. ( _He readily admits she is far more practiced at it, observing how Bee and Sam do at a closer distance._ )

Lightly, “You’re feeling a little hopeful, whatever it was Sam wanted from you, that couldn’t wait until the end of the mission.”

Leia frowns slightly, “Hopeful isn’t right – she broke up with Jon.”

It is not a well-kept secret, Jedi telepathy or no that Leia does not care for her youngest’s boyfriend. Mostly politics, but it an unease that stands all the same.

The Falcon jerks up as it breaks atmosphere; they both mutter their usual prayers to someone the ship’ll survive just one more round.

There is a wary warning edge to Leia’s voice, when they refocus on the subject at hand, “I’m not _happy_ they broke up. Sam’s devastated and while Alderaan never got along with his grandfather, I don’t begrudge Jon bad relatives.”

“So who broke it off?”

There’s no explanation; Leia doesn’t have it yet. Luke’s understanding of how his niece and boyfriend were together is not far from how he remembers Leia and Han in their earlier days. Perhaps it is not a break that will last.

“She’ll figure it out,” he says softly.

“I hope so.”

The system they’ve been called to investigate isn’t much to look at: a backwater in the Outer Rim. Desolate, near deserted after the slave trade and Imperial occupation left decades before. Stray pirate gangs and enterprising smugglers bring headaches to the small communities. Taking the Falcon is a risk, but it may be enough to startle the thugs off.

Leia claimed she needed to stretch her legs; it seems fitting that the pair of them slipped away from Coruscant in time for the anniversary of Yavin.

Leia docks in a landing bay a little removed from the center of town; the walk to the cantina is unimpeded. As newcomers with only lightsabers, they’re eyed suspiciously, but none approach them. Leia speaks quietly with the bartender while Luke moves back into a darkened corner.

She joins him a moment later, pushing back the hood of her cloak.

They’ll wait and observe a little longer, then leave the system as they found it: rough around the edges, but quiet. To be visited later, when trouble arrives again.

Leia is the first to rise, but they both sense trouble approaching from the outside at the same moment.

“There are our criminals,” Luke mutters under his breath.

Stepping back out into the sun, the Force sees their cloaked enemies before their eyes do. It’s odder when they stay at the edge of the wide street.

Lifting her hand to shield her eyes, Leia calls out, “Surrender your weapons now and the Jedi will deal with you peacefully and equitably.”

_Something’s not right; these aren’t the pirates we were sent to deal with._

There is no response from the two figures far opposite them.

_There never were any pirates._

Leia nods nearly imperceptibly, too far for the others to see their shared silent tics.

One of the two reaches for a blaster; but by the time Luke has his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, two others have ignited.

They weren’t pulling a blaster; they were pulling a lightsaber, with a brilliant red blade against the drab buildings. Leia’s own blue blade emerges faster than his green, and at her ignition, the hooded figure charges forward, followed by their partner, also wielding a lightsaber.

There’s no time to wonder where they got them or where they came from as the first attacker’s blade cracks against his own; a noise he hasn’t heard in true combat in nearly thirty years.

They knock Luke backwards to the ground, their blade perilously close to his neck. Leia’s own duel sounds faint and far away ( _it is merely feet._ )

Luke doesn’t have a good lock of blades in the duel to throw the opponent off; he does manage to kick them hard in the gut, freeing himself. In the scuffle, the hood throws back some, revealing horns on the head.

Luke catches a moment in fighting back the zabrak to see more hooded figures on rooftops and lurking in alleys, it is clear running is the only option. There is no knowing how many of them also are Sith, or at least possess Sith weapons.

_Leia!_

She takes a final swing at her own opponent, who dodges her blade. Needing no second prompting, they run; all the shadows long behind them and in pursuit.

The Falcon remains stationary and apparently unharmed; though they both dare to contemplate tampering as part of the trap they walked right into. Leia holds the closest ones off the ramp as Luke dashes into the cockpit and throws all the engines and hyperdrive roaring. ( _Leia may be better at coaxing more life and nuance out of the old girl, but they are in desperate need of a fast, near suicidal escape._ )

“Pull the ramp up now!” he hears her yell from down the corridor. Even through the Falcon’s usual groaning, Luke can hear the ramp lock shut and the clatter of Leia descending one of the gun ports.

As Luke guides the ship ripping into space, Leia fires a few blasts before they break free of gravity and plunge into the starry dark.

Still breathing heavily and blood pounding loudly in his ears, Luke speaks when Leia collapses in the co-pilot’s seat.

“What… was… that?”

Leia is as lost as him, and just as apprehensive of what’s to come in the wake.

\----------

All those present in the room focus solely on Kai, who contemplates, looking back into the recesses of a past Ahsoka barely even remembers.

“It was not zabraks who found you but a man of Dathomir, or at least I suspect.”

“There are more than the witches on that system?” Set asks, shocked. Despite the serious mood, Ahsoka can’t help but smile. ( _He is still so young._ )

“Many years ago, Sidious had an apprentice from Dathomir. He was killed by Obi-Wan Kenobi then some witchcraft brought him back not long after. He had an apprentice as well, but by the time we caught up to them again, they were already dead.”

“Sidious,” Ahsoka says tiredly. He always did have bigger plans.

Kai nods, “We assumed at the time and I think that assumption is still correct.”

“But why now?” Mara asks, frustrated. “Why an army of them?”

“Of Sith?” Iella interjects, voicing the previously unthinkable.

“We don’t know they were Sith –” Luke begins.

Mara cuts him short, “Did they feel Sith?”

The wretched look on Luke’s face says it all; Leia actually answers the question.

“Some of them were Sith. I’m not certain they all were.”

“Abandoning their old codes,” Chase mutters.

( _The Sith learn some lessons, same as the Jedi._ )

“But why now and for what?” Ahsoka asks, coming back to Mara’s thought.

No one has an answer.

\----------

The tension in the Temple is unbearable after mom and Luke return. Everyone seems ready to jump into a ship or transport at a moment’s notice; ready to battle an oncoming storm they cannot see the scale of yet.

Bee, who prides herself on her cooler head than Pres – and certainly Sam – doesn’t want to be around them – can’t be. Same for mom and dad, who just stare at each other. ( _Sam’s incessant sighing and stream of thoughts do no favors._ )

Kat’s room in the Temple, ironically, is the change she needs. ( _Set nearly collided with her on the way in, his head elsewhere._ )

Despite their solemn promise as children, Bee finds her fears about her family spilling out. Kat never asks, though she knows as much as Bee’s Temple peers.

One word ( _grandfather_ ), then one hundred ( _it’s in our blood and it won’t get out; we will always walk on the knife’s edge, we are all a gamble; if this new army gets too close we will slip; I cannot live with the weight that if one of us goes, the rest of us will as well and the whole galaxy will be pulled into the dark again; we’re better gone from this place, not so close to limited power because then endless is only a short step away; I don’t understand how my mother and uncle can even bear to look at him after everything –_ ), and Bee crumbles to the floor, Kat’s arms securely around her, emanating a fierce protectiveness the likes of which Bee has never sensed before.

“They’re not after you.”

“They’re _always_ after us.”

“Got a bit of an ego, huh?”

Bee’s laugh sounds harsh in her own ears, but it is a laugh nonetheless.

\----------

They’re sound asleep when the holo beeps to life. Mara’s still pushing hair out of her eyes while Luke speaks with Ahsoka in a low voice.

“Get here now,” is her message.

The drowsy, warm bliss of sleep gives way to a silent tension that seems to pull at Mara’s very innards.

Luke is already out of the room, waking Shmi up by the time Mara pulls on her robes.

“What is it?” she can hear Shmi mumble, her last words before the terrible truth.

( _Luke ignores other calls as they head to the Temple. It hasn’t loomed so ominously on the horizon since the Empire. Mara reaches back for Shmi’s hand._ )

Han and Chewie in the Council chamber is a previously unseen sight, but it concerns them as much as the rest – more than most. When Luke and Ahsoka look around the room, they face the whole of their carefully collected and protected Order.

Mara steps a little further back into the crowd. Shmi is with Dev, with her cousins, with Leia.

“We received word from the Neutral Council many of their systems were attacked not long ago, presumably by our Dathomiran culprits,” Ahsoka begins.

“They left the aftermath all with the same message that Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader,” Luke finishes in a quiet, but firm voice.

The outcry is for the long-coming breaking of their shared secret, though some of the younger padawans whisper loudly amongst themselves.

Mara watches Shmi hold closer to Pres from the corner of her eye. ( _Mara’s surprised that Ventress held the secret so close for so long, but considering how long she wasted away in prison, it is remarkably quick. Something must of have compelled her to realize her time had run out. Mara almost regrets killing the Imperial officer._ )

Pulling her arm out from Han’s, Leia steps forward, “If slandering and discrediting the Order is what they want, this very well may be the last straw. But whatever’s to come, we are sure the Order will weather through. The Light Side wins at the end of the day.”

Mara envies how even and confident Leia is, but she knows it to be true.

“What happens now?”

Luke, Leia, and Ahsoka all exchange glances, then Luke speaks up, “We prepare for what’s coming. If the senate wants to address the Jedi, they only go through the three of us. The youngest of the padawans and younglings are to be returned to their families. Padawans of a certain age may choose to stay, but must know the severity of the situation. That leaves the rest of you with the more difficult task: the Sith.”

Other questions are asked, but Mara is distracted when Set touches her arm.

“I’m here for you if you need me.”

“We’re here for them,” she nods to her husband, her daughter, her family.

\----------

There is an uproar on all fronts, but Mon grants Leia one last concession before the public hearings; a private audience with only her and Luke.

There will be no excuses, no dancing around the truth this time.

The silence is long for all of them.

“Why, why did you find it necessary to keep this information from me for so many years?”

“We thought it best to continue with the truths established by our mother and General Kenobi, to ensure minimum disruption,” Leia says evenly.

Mon laughs darkly, provoked by Leia’s visible calm, “The minimum disruption?! I have, at best, petitions for your dispelling from anything associated with this government; at worst, the heads of the entire family broadcast across the galaxy!”

She turns sharply to face Luke, “Answer me once and for all, Skywalker: did you kill Darth Vader, formerly known as the Jedi Anakin Skywalker?”

Luke’s composure mirrors Leia’s, “The simple answer is ‘yes.’”

With a bite, “No tricks – everything.”

Leia senses the pull on Luke’s nerves, though he does not snap yet. This is their private grief and their private grief alone. They are the only two left who know how close Luke came in that moment.

“Do you want to hear how I stabbed him – the last remains of our father – then turned on the Emperor and took whatever held him together, then walked from the room, not turning back?”

Mon’s eyes narrow.

“Because none of that is true. I had Vader within an inch of his life then surrendered. The Emperor then turned to kill me and nearly did, before my father interceded and did what I would not do to either of them.”

“On the assumption that one act would absolve him of his countless sins,” Mon provides, almost lightly.

“On the instinct he was my father,” Luke snaps. Leia reaches across quickly to grab Luke’s hand. Mon watches the gesture closely, to catch signs of the familiar, foreboding fist.

“Well, Skywalker, I still have yet to hear how Anakin Skywalker died.”

_What do you want? Pathetically? With the last shred of dignity he possessed?_

Luke stews on his thoughts, Leia intercedes.

“On the deck of the Death Star, when his life support failed.”

“I take it you were with him, Skywalker.”

Luke only gives a small nod.

“And why was he on the deck? Was he planning to escape or would you force your father to stand for his crimes against the galaxy?”

They have no response for her. Luke may not have, but Leia would. ( _He’s said as much there would have been no other choice._ )

Vacantly, “I had to save him.”

Mon’s face fills with a quiet kind of anger. While Leia used feel that way every time Luke brought up his loftier ideas about their father, it is not Mon’s place to cast down judgment, she thinks self-righteously.

Let the galaxy tear Darth Vader to shreds; Anakin Skywalker should be theirs alone.

But no one will ever see that again.

“Your summons will be arriving first, then your spouses and children’s. Master Tano should expect hers soon as well. You will repeat all this and more to the senate, but do not expect mercy or trust. You may have brought down the Empire, but I will not risk this republic’s life on yours. Go.”

Leia doesn’t look at Mon on the way out; deliberately looking forward and past the guards.

\----------

On top of everything, Jon tries to call, again and again. Sam refuses to answer. ( _Her family needs her, she can’t think about him._ )

Chancellor Mothma makes good on her promise. Mom and Luke are taken for their summons; the foreknowledge doesn’t stop dad’s face from going ghostly pale when it comes.

They don’t come back that night or the night after.

No one hears anything about them. No court date is announced.

Dad and Mara are taken away from them next.

Shmi sleeps on the couch, unwilling to return to the empty apartment. Chewie keeps his crossbow at the ready, as if he can protect them from the court orders which are bound to come for them too.

When Bee’s steady breathing becomes too much to listen to, Sam throws the covers off and does her best not to disturb Shmi. She puts her face against the cold glass of the great window in the living room. The chill creeps onto her cheek first then sends shivers down her spine.

She fears for a split second she is not the only waking presence in the room.

But grandfather does not come to her; she doesn’t want him to. Thinking about him only serves to make Sam angry. Mountains of reasons to blame him build up in her mind.

Everything is his fault. It’s his fault her parents, uncle, and aunt have been carted away without a word. His fault Shmi lost her leg trying to protect their family shame. His fault the Emperor rose to power. His fault the Order is going to crumble a second time.

The mountain of blame weighs on Sam until all her tears burst out at once.

She has never been alone in her life. There was always Bee, always Pres, always mom and dad. ( _Always the Skywalkers and the stars._ )

Where are they all now?

Everyone and everything is being taken away. No matter how hard they cling, it is beyond their control.

“Sam? Is that you?” Shmi asks drowsily. The next question seems pointless to Sam, “Are you okay?”

She obviously isn’t. How could she be? Her nose runs. Sam wipes it on her sleeve.

Shmi doesn’t say anymore, but wraps her blanket around Sam and cradles her the same way Sam did for Bee through all those nights of heartbreak. She never thought she would need the same sort of comforting.

Sam is instantly jealous of Bee and Shmi; they have partners who understand and whose careers don’t hinge on political alliances and damning personal connections. She is almost glad of their fight. Breaking things off with Jon when she did gave him a narrow escape from all this; saved her the pain of the look on his face when he learned the truth.

_Why does he keep calling?_

If Bee were awake she would hear her sister’s distress; she would have an answer.

Sam buries her face into the blanket and falls asleep to the lulling sounds of the city.

The morning brings new reports of Sith movements and more losses. Ahsoka is taken for her hearings. Still no court dates are announced.

The wait draws out longer. Each passing hour leaves Sam more alone than ever.

\----------

They are old, no doubt about it. Hair has gone grey, faces have grown long and etched with lines, muscles have gone slack – Saw didn’t think there was anything that could surprise him about Ahsoka. Her gall to request a visitation from him does.

After everything they’ve been through and everything that’s transpired in the past month, what could she possibly have to say to him that couldn’t have been said a hundred times over?

Saw folds his arms tightly across his chest and leans back, “So every time I told you to take revenge _for_ your master, I was telling you to take revenge _on_ your master,”

Ahsoka nods.

_Well, that explains her reluctance to listen to him for all those years._

“And that time you said you fought him –”

“That was before the mask and armor – Vader still looked like Anakin.”

Saw’s stomach would flip if he wasn’t so enraged.

Steela, Lux, King Dendup, General Tandin, countless others under his command dead at the hand of the man who helped them take back Onderon.

“Saw, I’m sorry –”

“No! I don’t want to hear it from you. You had the chance to kill him and you didn’t! If you had just done it, Steela wouldn’t have had to die – my sister!”

Her anger rises just as quickly, “I was barely eighteen! I didn’t stand a chance! My _brother_ would have killed me without a second thought! And Steela still wouldn’t have been saved. I couldn’t have killed him even if I knew what was going to happen to the galaxy.”

She shrinks back into the corner.

A low snarl escapes his throat and Saw turns sharply on his heel, ready to be let out, but he hesitates.

They’ve been through too much together – known each other for too long to leave things like this ( _longer than Steela was alive_ ).

He gives in with a groan and faces her again, “You didn’t ask me here to fight and I didn’t come all this way to blame you for Steela’s death. Gods know it wasn’t your fault.”

Ahsoka doesn’t answer, but wraps herself in her arms, closing off. Saw hates that he can’t shrug off her indifference the way he used to; he’s gotten used to seeing her countenance filled with emotion. They’re too old for grudges.

“So, how’s the food?”

“I’ve had worse,” she mumbles.

Saw laughs, “I can imagine. Bet you’re probably not getting too much information from the outside while you’re in here.”

“Not a thing. I don’t even know when the hearings are supposed to start.”

“They already have.”

“What?!”

“Mostly other masters, a couple of your knights.”

“Sounds like they’re wasting no time. Have –”

“No. Skywalker, Organa, and their families aren’t scheduled till later in the proceedings. Looks like the New Republic’s attempting to turn the galaxy against more than they already are.”

Ahsoka shifts uncomfortably.

“Don’t worry – you’re mixed in there too. Mothma hasn’t forgotten about you.”

Clambering for anything she can get her hands on, “What else can you tell me?”

“They’ve got some baron from Scipio running the damn thing. And he’s taking no prisoners.”

“Did you say Scipio? Is his name Rush Clovis?”

“Sounds right.”

“Shit.” She leans back and throws her hands up in the air, “He’s not going to go easy on us.”

“That’s presumably why they chose him. Why? What did you do to him?”

“Not what we did to him – what Ana –”

The cell door opens with a slam, startling them both. “Time to go, General.”

Saw breathes in deeply through his nose, but can’t argue. “I’ll be back if I can, Tano. But it’s not likely they’ll let a Seppie like me through again.”

\----------

Each of their questions has only a single, direct answer. To them fact is truth and the truth has only one interpretation.

“State your name and system of origin,” Baron Rush Clovis presides. The senate hearings fill ( _they will overflow when a Skywalker takes the stand_ ), all eyes upon the sole Jedi in the chamber, awaiting answers.

“Set Tane of Stewjon.”

“Are you a member of the New Jedi Order?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been a member of the New Jedi Order?”

“My padawan training began just after the first outbreak of the Mandalorian conflict. I was knighted not long before the pirate uprisings.”

“Who was your Jedi master?”

Here, Set fumbles ( _the answer is not as clear cut as they suppose_ ), “I was taught collectively by the members of the Order at the time.”

Clovis’s eyes narrow and lips purse, “Who _officially_ was your master?”

Set swallows, knowing what answer they want and where their next questions will lead. They will ask him to condemn Luke and Leia and reject their teachings in exchange for some reprieve for his own sins, Even if he won’t, every word he says will be used to tighten the knots of the noose around the family that accepted him with open hearts.

“Master Luke Skywalker.”

“And when you began your training, did you know who Master Skywalker’s father was?”

He snorts undignifiedly, “Didn’t everybody?”

Clovis is not amused; his stern face answers Set with cold silence.

“Yes. Yes, I knew Master Luke was the son of Anakin Skywalker,” he amends, regaining his own stoic composure. These questions are ridiculous – these hearings a farce, but too much is on the line to jeopardize with uncooperative behavior.

“When did you learn Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side and became Darth Vader?”

Set tenses. They haven’t given him any room to deny it. He will not offer them more information than they ask for. What would they say to Anakin Skywalker’s ghost confirming the truth anyway?

“During the second outbreak of the Mandalorian conflict – when Katan released her rumor.”

“Which has proven to be true,” the baron’s statement is rhetorical. “Have Master Skywalker or Master Leia Organa ever asked you to lie for them about the identity of their father?”

Set wants to lash at Clovis.

_How dare he? How dare he insinuate Luke and Leia would force them to do anything against their will?_

He calms slightly, enough for him to clear his head.

_They’re attempting to discover how deep the lie goes._

“No.”

“But neither did you offer this information of your own accord.”

It is supposed to be an accusation – an indictment for not performing his duty to the Republic by not handing over his second family; Set cannot let it rest.

Holding his head high, “Because I don’t believe children should pay for the mistakes of their parents.”

\----------

If it weren’t for the Force, Leia would have lost all sense of time in the cell. She keeps waiting for the echo of footsteps walking by or the sounds of distant communicators bearing the order for her termination.

Leia laughs when she imagines Luke bursting through the door in a stormtrooper uniform, claiming he’s here to rescue her. But she knows that was years ago and she knows he is here with her ( _their prison cannot sever that link_ ).

She feels out for Han too; though he cannot reach back, Leia tries to sooth his fear. ( _Let him know I’m here._ )

She rubs her temples trying to concentrate when the cell door finally opens.

“Come with us.” She figures the time for her trial must have come at last and follows dutifully.

Instead, Leia is brought before the New Alderiaan council.

In as stately a voice as she can muster, “I thought you had forgotten your senator. I have been left in a cell without knowledge or access to even so simple a piece of information as my own court date. I would like you to formally reprimand the New Republic, on my behalf, for this absurd oversight.”

Though she doesn’t show it, Leia seethes at her treatment at the hands of Mon and the senate. It is an outrage. It is irresponsible and unjustifiable. She expected this behavior from the Empire, not the New Republic. She doesn’t imagine her family is receiving any more information than she is.

Each of them avoids her gaze in turn until one of them gains the courage to speak.

“After much debate, we have decided to revoke your status as senator of New Alderaan. Give the circumstances it is in the systems best interests if…”

His words are drowned out by white noise.

It is nothing Leia did not expect. How could she not? Bad enough to be brought to trial, worse to be brought to trial for being Darth Vader’s daughter.

Still, it hurts to have the position stripped away. Elected at eighteen, entrusted with carrying on Alderaan’s legacy, reelected over and over; proven her loyalty to her home and her people more times than there are systems in the Republic.

“The council has also agreed you and your children are to be disinherited.”

Leia is ripped from her haze.

“What?!”

“It is now clear to us, despite your adoption by our late queen and senator, you are not a member of the royal line. Therefore, all powers and privileges accompanying that title are hence forth stripped from your person.”

It is a simultaneous lifting of the weight of the crown from her brow and a crushing blow to her identity.

( _Whatever her birth, she never wanted anything more than to be Bail and Breha Organa’s daughter._ )

Leia clenches her jaw. They are cutting all damning ties between them and her family. They are sending her to the courts alone ( _no, she is not alone; she is a Skywalker and they stand together_ ).

But when all of Alderaan disappeared in a blaze before her eyes, it was not as painful as being cast out in disgrace.

Her teeth grind, “As a citizen of the system of New Alderaan and of the New Republic, I demand my rights be upheld.”

One of the council members nods to her guards. A hand grabs her shoulder roughly, leading her away.  
Leia shouts at them, “The chancellor cannot legally incarcerate us without a shred of information to use in our defense! Unless she intends to uproot every ideal she holds dear for the sake of persecuting a dead man!”

Shut back in her cell, Leia lets each minute stretch into hours, into days, until she loses track of time.

\----------

It feels like she hasn’t looked up in days. The crick in Bee’s neck almost makes her want to keep staring at her toes.

But the crass voice telling her she’s no longer a princess of New Alderaan and dad’s about to take the stand makes her head snap up.

They haven’t bothered to tell them anything.

Why now?

_Were you just told the same thing I did?_

Bee looks around the cell for her twin. Sam’s voice is as loud and clear as if she were in the room. It is nothing new to them, but is unexpected here.

_That we’ve been disowned? Yeah. I’m more worried about dad though._

_Me too._

He sister’s voice is softer now. Bee tries to think of something – anything else to take their minds off of dad.

_How many of the Order do you think they’ve tried since we’ve been in here?_

_I don’t know. Could be all of them. Could be none. Trying to make us sweat this out until we admit everything is_ our _fault._

Bee bites her tongue and bites back every word of fear and anxiety she let spill to Kat. ( _Oh, how she wishes Kat were with her now._ )

It’s grandfather’s fault, not theirs she tells herself vehemently. None of them will ever say otherwise, not even the youngest members of the Order.

But Sam’s right about something: the Republic is trying to wear them down.

And they couldn’t be doing a better job of it.

\----------

Shmi paces. It’s the only thing she can think to do to keep her leg from growing stiff.

It’s the only thing she can think to do to keep her mind off of the fact mom’s probably in the middle of her hearing and that Clovis bastard is probably exploiting everything last thing she did as Emperor’s Hand to discredit her.

Shmi wanted to be stubborn and angry with Clovis as he pushed her for more information about Ventress’s escape, but it’s hard to let rage blind her anymore.

She answered his questions without a fight.

( _“Did you visit the Sith, Asajj Ventress, a fortnight before her escape?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Did you discuss Anakin Skywalker?”_

_“Yes,” she bowed her head. “She tricked me into telling her Darth Vader’s true identity.”_

_“Irresponsible child,” he scolded. “Informing a criminal, but not your government.”_

_Shmi thought about crying out, trying to explain that is was a trick, but a pain shot through her leg, reminding of what got her in trouble in the first place._

_“Why would a young Jedi visit a prisoner they’ve never met before anyway?”_

_“Because she asked me to.”_

_Clovis’s scowl seemed to darken, “There is no record of a request to meet with you.”_

_Shmi knew how it would sound to anyone unfamiliar with the way of the Force, “She came to me in a nightmare.”_

_“And now we must all suffer from a child’s night terrors because you let her go.”_ )

Even after the hundreds of assurances this isn’t her fault, Clovis managed to pick the scab off the nearly healed wound.

\----------

The cantina is packed. No surprise there.

Lando pushes his way through the masses waiting the trial to begin. People who don’t have the same clearance and access he does clamber around the holo projector. It vaguely disgusts him how eager they are to watch the slaughter.

“Lando! Over here!” Wedge waves at him. “We’re watching in a private room in the back.”

It takes some doing, but Lando works his way through the crowd towards Wedge.

Greeting him with a clap on the back, “Thought you would have prime seats, being a senator and all.”

The terrible truth is Lando hasn’t been able to stomach any of this. He doesn’t want to be at the court, but he can’t ignore it either.

Shaking it off, “I’d rather be where I can have a drink my hand.”

“I know what you mean.”

Wedge signals the bartender as they head for the back room, the rest of the old Rogue squadron is already there. Most stare down into their cups; either disappointed or downright pissed. He can’t say he blames them.

Old war buddies, would they be anything else after the revelation their friend is the son of their enemy?

A drink is placed before Lando and he joins their sullen mood.

For his own part, Lando doesn’t blame Luke ( _and Leia_ ) for wanting to keep the truth a secret. He can barely cope with the notion it’s his fault. Bespin was a trap, what sort of a trap he had no idea, but he can’t shake the part he played in reuniting father and son.

They turn the holo projector on at the appointed time; the baron is the first face they see as he reads the charges and offenses of Jedi Master Luke Skywalker of Tatooine. Lando is impressed by how tall the old kid stands, staring down the man who has made the past couple months a hell for his family.

“Were you aware of your father’s identity?”

“When?”

“What do you mean ‘when’? I asked you a simple question.”

“Not as simple as you’ve made it out to be.”

Nervous chuckles ripple sporadically throughout the chamber. Lando can’t help himself either ( _the kid’s got some fight still in him_ ).

“Yes, I have always known my father was Anakin Skywalker, though I was under the impression he was a navigator on a spice freighter.”

More apprehensive laughter. There is something so wrong with the image of the Hero with No Fear as a mere freighter pilot.

“It wasn’t until a few days before Yavin, Obi-Wan Kenobi revealed my father was a Jedi.”

Clovis’s lip twitches, getting more frustrated. He snaps, “But when did you learn Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker, _your_ father.”

Lando swallows. ( _Residual guilt piles on from letting Vader torture Han and Leia, from letting the Imps take over, from just about everything._ )

“Darth Vader told me the truth himself when I met him on Bespin.”

Finally having received his answer, Clovis gloats. “For a full year before the downfall of the Empire, you withheld this information.”

“Much of that year was spent in denial, Baron; the other part acceptance.”

Choruses of boos and hisses sound on the opposite side of the door. The group in the back room sink further into their cups.

_Damn it, Luke. Why do you have to be so noble about this?_

Reputation is a fickle thing – easily swayed, easily destroyed. All the people booing across the galaxy don’t know him. They judge his character only on what they hear. And they don’t want to hear their hero accept the truth; they want to hear him reject it.

Hell, Lando wants to hear Luke reject the allegations laid against him, against Leia and Han, against their families, and against the Order. He wants to hear Luke fight back and prove this is all a waste of time.

He wants to believe they didn’t all keep it hidden from him for years.

“The things you think you know about a person,” Lando mutters under his breath.

He reaches for another drink as the next line of questioning begins.

\----------

Trying to get any more information out of the guards than what they tell him about the hearings is like banging his head against the walls.

Aside from the obvious, Pres really isn’t sure what to expect.

He asks them about other things: the state of the Order, public reactions to the trials, anything about the movements of the Sith.

They are especially tight-lipped about the last topic. Pres fears Viscous is getting close and the Republic isn’t prepared to face him ( _not without the Jedi, not without swallowing their pride and admitting persecuting them was a mistake_ ).

Since they will not talk to him, Pres meditates as a form of spite.

He mentally prepares himself to discuss grandfather in public ( _or at all, really_ ).

Each breath is slow and steady.

His mind clears until a sole image remains: the face of grandfather’s ghost. Pres only saw him the once, he wonders why it is so clear in his head now, sad and pitiable. Pres’s heart pangs and he grows angry. Why should he feel sorry for him? What good thing did he do to deserve Pres’s sympathy?

Concentrated on his resentment, not his meditation, Pres’s breathing grows longer, deeper – almost into that same lifeless sound which haunts them all.

Sucking in one last breath, his eyes snap open. The cell door stares back at him.

The floor rattles below.

\----------

The explosion is not loud at first, but it resonates through every layer of the city. Ahsoka is jolted awake.

“They’ve made it,” she says quietly to herself, blood running cold. There is clamoring in the hall, the guards yelling in confusion.

It was only a matter of time before Viscous moved on Coruscant, as daring an enterprise as it might be. Not even Dooku attempted it, though he never had the Son whispering in his ear.

“Let us out of here!” Ahsoka can hear faintly through the thick walls. She hadn’t realized Sam was in the next cell over.

_Boom, boom._

Once again, Ahsoka finds herself facing death, and she has no intention of letting it best her.

Cooperative behavior with the Republic does them no good now, and she searches for weak points in the door. Her concentration is broken, not by the rumble of ship’s fire in the sky, but a very loud bang of metal twisting nearby. The impact of the explosion nearly knocks her off her feet.

She regains balance, ears ringing, when her door slides open, obliging escape.

Stock still and dazed, “What the…”

Han stands at the control pad, “You don’t want to stay here when the fight’s out there.”

Ahsoka runs up into the hallway, Pres and Shmi scrambling to open cells. Luke and Leia are not there, but two cell doors are completely obliterated.

They return with arms full of lightsabers.

“Thanks,” says Han, still empty-handed.

Harried, Leia replies, “There isn’t time right now.”

“I snuck a view down the corridor,” Mara shouts over a fresh round of explosions. “They’re concentrating on the Temple –”

No. Not again. Ahsoka will not be idle and away while her home is torn down again. She charges, some old recklessness returned. ( _Everyone else trails behind._ )

The guards don’t even shout when she passes out the front gate into the night air. Panic reigns everyone and everywhere and perhaps they need Jedi to take the front line again.

She grabs a speeder and goes, swerving bits of building and ship that fly towards her. When she arrives at the Temple, she leaps out of the speeder and ignites her lightsaber in the air.

“Get out of here!” she roars at the padawans still there. She yanks Jax hard when it looks like he might run into the heat of the fight.

She won’t see any of their children die, not this time. ( _Small mercy they sent the youngest home already._ )

Ahsoka cuts through the fights as best she can. Viscous duels Hortu and Bant by himself, and grins in anticipation on her arrival.

He dives for her.

Let this end now before it is beyond their control. Let this fight for the Temple be the greatest struggle.

Ahsoka dodges Viscous’s blows, but it does not come as easily to her as it once did and she finds herself catching breath.

Viscous’s laugh at her struggle is more of a snarl; Ahsoka nearly charges headfirst into him.

She finds her footing slip when a sinister and cold feeling descends on the Temple, settling into her bones. She whips her head around for its source.

Viscous more pleased with her alarm than the chance to strike her down, laughs again, “You didn’t think He’d stay away forever?”

It’s irresponsible, but Ahsoka drops the duel with Viscous and runs towards where the Son blackens her Temple.

A chunk of a column flies in her direction, broken off by a deflected bolt of lightening.

Luke’s gotten in closer range, but Leia moves more handily.

The booms of the battle above have almost faded in Ahsoka’s ears, but the next explosion shakes even down to the Temple’s foundation.

It’s more than the columns that are about to come down.

“Come on!” Allyse yells. “We have to go!”

Ahsoka takes another glimpse of the duel with the Son. Maybe they could end it – she’s seen a Skywalker take him down before, they could do it again and –

A good portion of the ceiling collapses, inches from Ahsoka and Allyse’s feet.

“Go, you must!” calls out Master Yoda.

They won’t die here today.

“Leia! Luke!”

They don’t need another word.

One last ship remains in the hangar, idling. ( _Someone must have turned the engines on for the last ones out._ )

“Are we it?” Ahsoka asks Allyse between gasping breaths, watching down the ramp as the Temple is swarmed, Luke piloting them out.

“Yeah,” Allyse chokes back.

 _Not like the last time,_ Ahsoka thinks. In spite of herself, a smile quirks up.

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
